


Neverland

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Graphic Description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lost boys AU





	

Sam and Dean Winchester trudge through a forest filled with decaying trees, each threatening to fall at the softest breeze. Their bare feet are covered in clumps of wet dirt and leaves almost becoming shoes. Their stomachs rumble in anger, begging for food after hours without even a drop of water. They try to find the famed tree where Peter Pan lives with his lost boys, hoping for a better life, but are heading too far south in the exact opposite direction. The evidence of their torture still clear through their mangled clothing. The bruises are a muddled brownish-yellow color, the darkest ones on their wrists and ankles where their shackles used to hang.

There is a howl deep in the woods, behind them. It sounds neither like a creature or human. The sinister sound lulls the boys into a sense of complacency as it barges into their ears, numbing their senses to the deathly cold that bites down into their bodies. As the howl digs deeper into their brains, it changes its tune. It can only be described as being like fresh honey being poured into their ears. Delightful. Completely out of sorts they struggle towards an unknown path, the tree they are searching for almost dragging them to it. Its’ hooks deeply implanted in Sam and Dean’s brains, manipulating their minds into seeing the forest as lush and fresh.

It’s Sam’s feet that start to bleed first. The hidden rocks under the compacted earth scrape away at the tender, wrinkled flesh of his feet, staining the path behind him with incomplete imprints of his small feet. Dean’s footprints show up only moments later. Their bodies are tired and weak but their minds do nothing to warn them of the fight that is waging within them. Nor does it tell them about the wrenching in their stomachs asking them to turn back, go home, and forget Neverland. But forgetting their quest is out of the picture, even if it is an opportunity that should have never crossed their minds.

Sam’s body gives up, no longer capable of completing his mission. But there is still some fight in him. He crawls, his elbows turning almost black from the mud. Dean, alarmed enough to snap out momentarily from the grasp of the mysterious song, grabs Sam, hoists him on his back and tries to turn back. The song does not appreciate having its clutch being avoiding, even for an instance, and buries itself deeper, wiping away any sense of Dean’s individuality. Like a marionette, he walks towards the tree he’d been looking for. Right into Peter Pan expectant hands, the siren song spilling from his cracked lips louder than before.

The fabled savior of the Lost Boys waited inside of the rotten tree. Greed is not a strong enough word to describe how he felt knowing that another pair of boys was coming into his grasp. Peter waits as Sam and Dean march their way into the cavernous hole that is the entrance Peter lair. With their body is on the brink of breaking down the boys go inside, Sam still attached to Dean’s back. Peter welcomes them like a circus master welcomes his crowd. His ginger hair looking rusted and matted under the half moon’s light.

“Boys, I’ve been expecting you. Take a load off. Welcome into my palace.” Peter motions boisterously at the dilapidated carcasses of what used to be full beds and trunks.

As the song wore off the boys collapse onto the crusty floor, their bodies are unable to continue standing. Peter, completely oblivious to the effects his song had on them, continues boasting about his house and about the things that he can make happen for the boys. Grandiose claims fall on deaf ears as the boys’ bodies try to regain their strength, too weary from the long travel and malnutrition. Realizing the extent of the voices move comma internal and external, Peter sits down on one of the creaky bed watching the boys continue sleeping. Their thin, tiny limbs are intermingled with each other, clutching for warmth and comfort to hid from the chilled hollowed tree. To Peter, both of their skin looks like a light has been illuminated from within, shining like diamonds underneath a jewelry display case.

The sun finally is in the middle of the sky when both Sam and Dean wake up your mouth so dry and their stomachs furious at the lack of food. Peter greet them with a warm smile. But something surprises Peter as he tries to converse with the voice. The effect of his song must have been too great for the two boys who have barely eaten anything for weeks. The fire that may have been behind their eyes before the song was extinguished and replaced with a mindless stare rivaling that of a statue. Peter smiles lovingly at the boys, caressing their cheeks, adoring how soft and malleable they feel under his calloused touch.

Peter grabs Dean, holding him like a toddler. Dean’s head lulls against Peter’s shoulder. Once again turning into a ringleader Peter walks Dean through his haven for lost boys, exaggerating the beauty of the dingy palace. Dean only partly conscious is seated in one of the uneven dining chairs in the kitchen, his mind barely processing the reality of his new life. Sam is placed next to Dean. Under the hour it has taken since they awoke and have been placed in their seats Peter has tricked their minds into believing and seeing everything Peter sees. Every disgusting, filth covered corner is turned into divine and ornate fixtures fit for a king.

With all the care of a parent, Peter feeds the boys, completely unaware that not even half of it actually reaches their stomach. Almost all of it ends up sliding down their faces to the floor. Their bodies rest there, limp, and hazy. Every tender touch feeling like everything they ever wanted. To them, their dreams have been realized. They are free. Free from their shackles and free from the man who always smelt like alcohol and leather.

“Sam, Dean,” Peter rests across the dining table, a full smile spread across his face revealing rotten teeth and bleeding gums. “Welcome to Neverland, little lost boys. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. My sweet, sweet boys.”

Peter rises, his green leggings faded and exposing infected flesh that reeks of death and disease. His bones creak like unoiled hinges as he goes behind Sam and Dean. Peter rests his bruised fingers on their shoulders, the fragility of their clavicles against his palm feeling like ecstasy shot straight into his veins. With bated breath Peter brings his face in between theirs, relishing the intoxicating scent of their skin.

“We’re going to have so much fun together!”


End file.
